She asked him to dominate her Part III

I did four U-turns on the way to his house the next morning. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. It was much more of a commitment than the first time, because I knew what I was in for. Well, actually, no I didn’t. I knew he would spank me, whip me… but for how long and how hard? Would I like it or would it just hurt this time?

He answered the door and slipped a blindfold over my eyes.
“Strip,” he said, the one word falling into the silence like a bolt slamming home. I did as he ordered, my nipples getting hard just at his tone. He stopped me before I took off my black thong underwear, and he tied my hands together and pulled me forward by them.

He pulled my hands over my head and I felt small tugs and movement in the rope. When he stepped away, my hands were secured far over my head and I stood in the middle of the room, almost completely naked and blind. I licked my lips. What would he do? Was this smart?

The first spank landed fairly softly, the flat of his hand on my exposed backside. He warmed me up slowly, spanking me with his hand until my skin was warm and I was pushing back to meet each blow, eager for the sting. Then he switched to a whip.

It felt like the same whip from last time, with all the little leather strings that could excite my skin or welt it. He worked it over my whole body, whipping my upthrust breasts, and my back and stomach. He kicked my legs apart and whipped my inner thighs until I moaned with it. He knew exactly what I needed and soft blows built up to hard cuts so that I almost had enough, but then he would back off again, teasing me with wanting the pain.

He let the whip whistle through the air, landing in a different spot each time, and I wanted to feel it all over me, needed it… He kept the blows just on the edge of pain for so long that I was wriggling with desire, trying to get closer to him. My body was begging him to do it harder, but I didn’t have the words. I broke out in a layer of cold sweat, and I could picture how my naked body would shine with it, my arms pulled helplessly over my head, my breasts bouncing as I strained for more of the whip.

My body pushed toward an orgasm, not getting enough contact for one, but too turned on not to. He must have known it. I have no idea how. The next blow never fell. There was no sound but my shameless panting. After a while, I said his name, my voice small and scared and wanting.

There was a tug in the rope, and my half numb hands tumbled down. A big hand pressed me to my knees and left me there in darkness and silence. I licked my lips, my breath still ragged, the sheen of sweat on my body cold and somehow arousing in itself.

That’s when I felt it- something smooth against my lips. I flinched in surprise, and because everything in my mind was sexual and dirty I understood at once that it was the head of his penis. I clamped my teeth shut. I’d dreamed of his cock in my mouth again, touched myself to the thought of it, but somehow I wasn’t ready to do that willingly. Not even as worked up as I was.

He rubbed it over my lips and I felt moisture. I darted my tongue out for just a second, curious, and tasted semen on my lips. He’d marked me. That felt dirty, as somehow satisfying and un-confessable as the thoughts I’d been having all week. I felt my nipples harden and wasn’t sure what I’d do next.

He pushed the head of his cock hard against my lips and I resisted. He pulled away and I flinched, waiting for a blow, but instead there was something far more intimidating. A smooth loop of leather rubbed against my check, across my chin and tapped against my lips. The riding crop, I realized with a jolt of fear. Would he hit me in the face? That was too much, way too much. Instead, he flicked it hard against my nipple and I shuddered with the sharp pain and nearly orgasmed.

“You see, I think you still don’t quite understand. You didn’t ask to be pleasured. You asked to be dominated.” His voice lent a subtle emphasis to certain words, made them hang with the weight of authority that it was natural to bend under.

The quirt flashed across my stomach with no warning and I yelped. “Yet you haven’t submitted. As long as you refuse my cock in your mouth, you have not submitted. As long as you think you know best about your body, and refuse to defer to my judgment…” the whip cracked across my buttocks with enough force to almost unbalance me. Fear rose in my throat. “Then you have not submitted. And until you do, you will be punished. Repeatedly. Harshly.” The last two words were the heaviest and I felt an answering melting between my legs. My nipples stood up, betraying me. He laughed and I knew he’d seen.

I felt mild heat on my face and knew he was close. The head of his cock rubbed across my face again, smooth and unyielding. I had a thought that if he offered it again, and I was smart, I would take it all.

Instead, he stepped back and picked me up, carrying me a few steps and laying me on a soft surface. A bed. He shoved me over onto my stomach and I began to struggle automatically. He pinned me with a knee across my ass, and yanked my arms harshly above my head. His knee dug into the soft flesh of my stinging butt and it distracted me for long enough for him to tie my arms. I fought him harder as he took my ankle in hand, but it took him only seconds to secure it in a soft, immovable cuff. After that, I knew I was done and I let him cuff my other ankle and then pull the ropes tight, forcing my legs further and further apart. Excitement was flashing through me all over again as he adjusted all the ropes until I was fully splayed, ass exposed by my black thong underwear and completely incapable of moving.

“If you won’t submit to my cock, you’ll have to submit to pain.” He said, the word falling upon my helpless body like the threat it was. I shivered and squirmed with excitement I couldn’t hide. I wanted a whipping like it was the first time, like I’d been waiting all my life for the slash of black leather across my wriggling ass, my long legs, the curve at the small of my back, my hard, wanting nipples. He trailed his fingertips across my ass, touching the string of my underwear, touching my wet slit so lightly that I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just my imagination. I wanted his cock now, wanted him to wrestle a thumb into my mouth and force my jaw open and feed it to me, hard swollen head pushing bruisingly against my naughty, disobedient tongue. I wanted to feel his big hand threaded through my hair, pushing me forward until his erection filled my throat, choked me with pure masculinity and dominance. I wanted the crop against my ass while I did it, giving me no choice but to pleasure him in any way he wanted me to.

The pictures in my head were so vivid that when the whip came down on my ass, I wasn’t sure at first if it was fantasy or reality. It was a merciless strike, but he waited until I was straining back toward the whip before he gave me another. I was ashamed but I couldn’t stop wanting more. He strode around the bed and started in on the other side, letting the slapper on the riding crop punish my other cheek. When I whimpered in pain, he started in between my legs, quirting my pussy and the vulnerable flesh all around it. I moaned and writhed and he paid me no mind at all, pulling my cheeks apart and flicking the whip at my anus. I screamed at the intensity of the pleasure and I heard the whistle of the whip as he swung it hard and let it crack against my ass. My whole body bowed and I heard that whistle again and when it landed, I orgasmed so hard that it felt like I was dying.